The Angela Show!
by AelinG
Summary: After the war, the people of Alagaesia lacked a proper source of entertainment. So Angela decided to start her very own talk show! Laughs and freebies are coming your way!
1. Episode 1

**Hello readers! This story is inspired by "The Yellowfang and Nightcloud Show" over from the Warriors fanfiction. A new guest will be appearing every episode. Hope you'll have some laughs, enjoy! **

People filed into the studio, checking their tickets for their seat number. "Where be this seat? I can't read it," said one farmer. An usher ran up and read it for him. "Seat 3A sir. Next to that Urgal over there." "_Urgal_?! I ain't sitting next to no stinkin' Urgal! Get me a new seat!" The Urgal heard the farmer, and bared his teeth at him, growling. "ALRIGHT ok ok ok ok I'll take that seat thank you thank you," he stuttered, grabbing onto his little straw hat.

"Please hurry everyone, the show will be starting soon!" yelled another usher. Audience members jostled each other to get to their seat, glaring at each other. "OI! That be my seat, you seat jack!" "OI! Them ushers said I sit here!" "Why you little…" "Sirs, sirs, please, sir, you can sit here." "Hnn."

At last when everyone was settled down in the 700-seater studio in Illirea, Kelly Clarkson music started playing. "Dagnabbit what be this music, so loud," someone complained. "WHAT DOESN'T KILL YOU MAKES YOU STRONGER!" sang the elves along to the music. "Oh barzul," the dwarves covered their ears. "YOU THINK YOU GOT THE BEST OF ME, THINK YOU'VE HAD THE LAST LAUGH!" the elves' voices grew louder. "SHUT IT!" everyone screamed. The Fair Folk quietened down and gave everyone a death stare. "So judgy," they muttered.

Suddenly, the lights on the stage lit up. The audience members cheered — the show was about to start. "Presenting to you, the wonderful Angela!" announced a voice that reverberated throughout the studio. It had to be magic, how the voice came out from those little black boxes placed around the room. A short, curly-haired woman bounced out from the side of the stage. "Hello everyone, and welcome to The Angela Show!" she proclaimed to thunderous cheers, for this woman was of course the one and only Angela! "GO WISE ONE!" the elves sang, holding up a giant sign saying "We heart Angela". The witch waved at her admirers. "Thank you all for coming down to the very first episode of The Angela Show! For that, you're all going home with a miniature frog replica!" The crowd went wild, and Angela held up a glass jar containing a plastic frog.

"Now then, for the main event." The werecat cameraman below stage swivelled the camera to face her as she walked over to a soft fur couch and sat on it. "We have an important guest with us today, he's really smart, a friend of Eragon's —" "ERAGON!" the female humans fangirled. "WE LOVE YOU ERAGON!" "Erm, no, Eragon is not coming onto the show today." The humans sank back into their seats looking visibly disappointed. "Instead, we have Jeod Longshanks! Come on down Jeod!"

A tall, lanky man with greying hair came over from back stage and sat in another fur couch opposite Angela. "Glad to be on the show, Angela," he said. "And we're honoured to have you! We just have a few questions to ask you," she said. "Could you tell us a little bit about yourself?" Jeod nodded.

"Well I was born in Teirm to Dustan and Kayla, who were traders. As we were relatively well off they were able to hire a tutor for me, and I grew a great love for books. All sorts of books. I grew up into a scholar, as you probably know. My parents introduced me to my lovely wife Helen, whose parents they were friends with. Now we are married, and Helen has now a thriving trade empire thanks to the one gold orb given to us by Eragon —" he stopped to let the fangirls shriek — "I'm very happy now, so to say."

"Interesting. Now, there are rumours of a secret organisation started by Heslant the Monk — the Arcaena, they are called. Do you know anything about that?" Angela asked, smiling.

"Uuh, well, uh, I have heard of them, but uh, no, I don't know much about them, except they're, uh, devoted to collecting information," Jeod replied, looking very flustered at this.

"Oh come on, Jeod, surely you know more? You are a _scholar_ after all," Angela prodded.

"I… uh… no, I really don't know anything more," Jeod was sweating and obviously very nervous. Angela laughed. "Alright, I won't prod anymore. Now then, how is your relationship with your wife Helen?"

"It's all well and good, though you know she can be quite the battle-axe sometimes and she can really be a pain in my—" "JEOD LONGSHANKS! You take that back!" a woman screamed. Jeod turned around and was horrified to find the bright blue eyes of Helen boring angrily into him. "L—look, dear, I can explain—" "Oh you better explain, or I will hurt you!" she said. Angela looked surprised. "How did you get in here Helen? I posted werecat guards at the door!" Helen smirked. "I offered your werecat guard a ball of yarn to play with, and they let me in." Sure enough, an iron-clad werecat raced onto stage, chasing after a pink ball of yarn. "Yarn! Yarn!" he shrieked. Angela sighed and grabbed the werecat by the scruff. "Hey! Hey! Lemme go!" he struggled. "Quith, go back to the door." The werecat yowled at her. "Let me rephrase that. If you don't go back to the door, I will have you DE-FURRED." She released the werecat and he immediately ran back stage.

"Right! Now that's all over—" Angela beamed at Helen. "Now you're here, what do you think of your relationship with Jeod?" The scholar cringed. "Well he's a #*%&$% son of a &#*$! when he wants to and he's always being a ! # #$% to me! Always piled up in his books, never paying me any attention!" she complained. She punched Jeod in the arm, and he rubbed the sore spot. "What do you have to say for yourself, Jeod?" Angela said. "Um… I'll buy you a new dress?" "What dress?" Helen inquired. "Um… the blue one you really li—" "I LOVE YOU JEOD I take everything back!" And with that she gave her husband a hug and pranced off the stage.

"Well that was weird," said Angela. "Anyway, as a gift from Jeod, you're all going back with a copy of the _Domia abr Wyrda!_" The crowd went wild again, cheering for Jeod. "Wait a minute, I am?" asked Jeod, wetting his tunic with sweat. "But each copy costs like 40 crowns…!" "Of course you are, I already deducted the gold from your account!" Angela said cheerfully.

Jeod fainted.

**Episode 2 hint: Chemical mishaps **


	2. Episode 2

**Hello readers, and here's the second episode of the Angela Show! Keep them reviews coming :)**

On the second day of the Angela show, Angela did not show up, much to the audience's disappointment. But she had sent in a replacement.

"Welcome to another episode of the Angela Show!" announced King Orrin. "King Orrin?!" said some Surdans in the crowd. "Your Majesty, shouldn't you be back in Aberon?!" Orrin laughed. "I'm in Ilirea for just a short visit to the Queen. I'm free today, so I decided to help Angela out!" His subjects clapped approvingly, and he gave a little bow.

"Now then, this is the 1st day of the '7 Days of Giveaways' week, so —" the crowd interrupted him with loud cheering, and Orrin grinned — "so you will all be receiving a gold nugget!" The king danced on stage, before tripping over his own foot and onto the werecat cameraman below. The camera crashed with a metallic thunk. "Watch the equipment!" he yowled, and scratched Orrin on the cheek. "Apologies, Small-tooth," Orrin said sheepishly, cradling his bleeding face.

He ran up into the aisle in between the audience's seats, and adoring fangirls (though not as many as Eragon's) grabbed onto his cape. "AH AH AH not the cape!" Orrin shrieked. "Before the show starts proper — let's dance!" More Kelly Clarkson music played. The elves opened their mouths to sing, but everyone else glared at them to keep quiet. Orrin twirled around on the aisle, knocking down several unfortunate dwarves.

"Hey you there!" he pointed at a dwarf doing the jig. "Let's do the disco!" The dwarf looked at Orrin as if he was mental (and he was probably right) as the king began doing the twist. "Orrin, get on with the show already!" Small-tooth screamed. Orrin scrambled back on stage before the werecat could give him another injury.

"Alright then. Today we have a special guest, which is, actually, me!" Confetti blasted out from the ceiling and swirled around him. "Argh the cape! Small-tooth get these paper pieces off o' me!" he screamed. The crowd laughed. "NOT FUNNY!" The King screamed again, his face turning extraordinarily tomato-like. "I AM YOUR RULER YOU WILL STOP LAUGHING!" All the non-Surdans did not appreciate this comment of his, especially not the elves, who all gave him icy looks. Orrin trembled.

"A—anyway, I thought it would be interesting if we did a bit of chemistry today, because, you know, I _am_ a prodigious alchemist." Orrin went over to a table already prepared for him. "Um, Small-tooth, where are my alchemy tools?" he asked. All that was there was a frying pan, a pot, a ladle and spatula, two plates, and an assortment of ingredients. "You were supposed to do cooking today," the cameraman said with a shrug of his shoulders. Orrin sighed.

"Never mind folks! We can still do alchemy!" Orrin placed the pot over the fireplace next to him. "So, I think I'll teach you how to make gold!" The crowd leaned forward with interest. "Ok, this is my step-by-step recipe."

"1. Dump some butter in." Orrin dropped a bar of margarine into the pot.

"2. Add a drip of lime." He carefully tilted a bottle of lime juice over the pot, and accidentally spilled all of the contents. "Oops, haha. Don't do that."

"3. Throw in 3 egg yolks." The king cracked 3 large eggs at the edge of the pot and poured the contents in. "Oh. Um. I may have forgotten to remove the albumen. Oh well!" Orrin said cheerfully.

"4. Add a touch of magic." Orrin looked around for a magician. "You there elf! Come here!" he said to an elf with fiery hair. "Excuse me?" the elf asked. "Yes, you get the privilege of working with I, King Orrin!" The elf rolled his eyes and hopped down onto the stage from his seat. "What do you want me to do?" Orrin scratched his head. "Uh, could you, uh, OH! Tell the mixture to turn into gold." The elf tilted his head at him, confused. "But your Majesty, it doesn't work that way..." "Bah! Just say 'Liquid become gold' in your magicky language!" "If that's what you want..."

The elf bent over the mixture and wrinkled his nose. The smell was terribly pungent, especially to his refined senses. "Ilgurth moi kuldr," he said. The liquid bubbled slightly, and turned a bright gold colour. "Yes! Good job Gary, here's a gift for you!" And Orrin gave "Gary" a bobble-head figurine of himself. "I... don't know what to say," Gary said, staring at the toy. "It's ok, I know you really like it! Let's clap for Gary everybody!" The crowd cheered.

"Right, for the last step: take the mixture off the fire and let it cool and harden!" Orrin removed the pot from the fire. "We'll just leave it overnight, and Angela will examine it tomorrow."

"Now we're done, I have one final thing to give you all!" Orrin raced back stage. The sound of cardboard and plastic (a material Orrin had claimed to have invented) being thrown around came from behind. "Here we are!" Orrin ran back to face the audience, holding up a thick book. "You're all also going home with a copy of my autobiography, Hard Decisions!" A Surdan soldier in the crowd clapped slowly. Crickets chirped.

"Well. I expected more response, but that will do. See you tomorrow everybody, and let's dance!" And with that, Orrin did the Gangnam Style out of the studio.

"Weirdo," Gary muttered.

**Yes. I totally spoofed Ellen's dancing. Also, if you get where I got the inspiration for Orrin's autobiography title, you get a (virtual) slice of cake!**

**Episode 3 Hint: Everything is fragile**


	3. Episode 3

**Cheers to the 3rd episode of the Angela Show! Keep them reviews coming! :)**

A light-hearted jingle played in the background, soothing the anxious audience anticipating the arrival of Angela. The werecat cameraman attempted to entertain them, pointing the camera at audience members doing certain embarrassing things. Their faces appeared on the large screen up front. An elf releasing a huge burp. An Urgal cuddling a teddy bear. Two ashamed dwarves had to duck their heads and stop giggling over a gold ingot as the camera turned to face them. Needless to say, they'd all be ridiculed for it once they went home.

A sudden burst of smoke on stage drew everyone's attention, and Small-tooth quickly adjusted the equipment. "Hello everybody and welcome back to the Angela Show!" And as the smoke dissipated, our favorite curly-haired witch stood waving. "I'm so glad to see you all today!" The crowd cheered at this. "Today is the 2nd day of Giveaways, so you're all getting a rare MUSHROOM!"

Trapdoors in the ceiling swung open, and red mushrooms tumbled down from above, burying the audience in a sea of fungi. "NOOO!" The elves screamed. "WE BE SCARED OF MUSHROOMS! They're not proper plants, they're parasitic to our poor plants, our precious plants, GET THEM AWAY!" The elves freaked out, drowning in mushrooms. "BRISINGR!" And so the entire studio was set on fire. The two dwarves from before dove onto their gold ingot.

"Oh goodness, you queer elves. Good thing I anticipated this!" Angela said with a smile. Now, instead of mushrooms, a river of water rushed down from the trapdoors, drenching the audience and putting out the fire. Small-tooth's fur plastered to his skin, dripping water onto the floor. "My equipment..." he sobbed.

"Thanks to the elves, you all now have one less present to go home with," Angela said, striding back over to sit in her signature couch. The other races glared at them, but of course the elves were too proud to admit their mistake, and stared back, posture aloof. "Now then. Today we'll first be checking out Orrin's mixture —" A werecat handed the pot to her "—and here we go!" She uncovered the lid, and the liquid exploded in her face. Gold splatter everywhere. "MINE MINE!" The dwarves shrieked, scooping the gold liquid into their hands. Angela's face was charred black, and she blinked. The audience roared with laughter. "That Orrin...!" She threw the pot to the side and wiped her face with a towel.

"I am never letting him on the show again!" Angela pulled out a strange tablet device with the logo of an apple on one side. She tapped repeatedly on the other side. "Today we have another guest — one with more concern for safety, I dare say — come on out Roran!"

A bearded, muscular man with a hammer clipped to his belt walked out from backstage. More cheers, with humans giving him a standing ovation. "Stronghammer!" they cried. Roran bowed before taking his seat. "Thanks for being on our show, Ronald!" Angela greeted. "My name is Roran, Angela" he corrected. "Of course Richard. So how's life been for the past few weeks?"

"It's been going wonderful. Carvahall has been rebuilt, much thanks to Her Majesty, and it's bigger and better than before. Therinsford is also much more lively, people going back and forth between towns. The running of Palancar Valley has been pretty smooth, for the most part," he replied, a proud smile on his face.

"I'm glad to hear that. So you've met no problems at all?"

"Well, we do have the occasional wolf or even bear straying from the Spine, but they are quickly dealt with. People are generally peaceful, most disputes are easily resolved."

"Speaking of the Spine, has the mindset of your citizens changed towards that place?"

"The original people of the Valley still retain their old thinking, but the new generation, that is the children and people from other cities, are slowly spreading out into the Spine. I don't think we'll ever go in too deep, you know, because of the Urgals. Don't want to disturb them." The gathered Urgals nodded.

"Good! Now I'd like to ask you more personal questions," Angela grinned. "How's the family?"

"Katrina is a wonderful wife, very caring, and our daughter Ismira is as healthy as ever. She's such a playful girl, and she never listens to either of us," he chuckled. "How old is Ismira? 10?" Roran nodded. "She's turning 11 this year."

"If you don't mind, could you tell us how Eragon was like at 11?" Angela asked, her smile growing wider. Roran laughed. "Worse than Ismira I tell you! My father was always getting mad at him. He'd run off into the Spine to hunt, and return all battered and bruised. And when we had to harvest the crops, he'd often forget to only harvest the specific plant part, and would uproot the entire plant instead." The elves weren't all too pleased with this.

"Haha, I knew the blockhead was as stubborn and idiotic as I thought he was. Thanks for sharing, and we're going to play a game now, if you don't mind."

A werecat dragged out a whack-a-mole arcade game. "So, all you have to do, is when a mole pops up, you whack it with this hammer." Angela handed a pink hammer toy to Roran. "3, 2, 1, bananas!" A mole popped up and Angela gave it a good thwack on the head. "1 point to Angela!" Small-tooth announced. Roran licked his lips, and the game was underway. He and Angela pushed each other, fighting to be the one to hit every mole that dared show it's brown plastic head. Angela was surprisingly deft with a hammer, with Roran barely able to keep his lead. Then when Small-tooth yelled, "5 seconds left!" Stronghammer lifted his hammer up, and dramatically brought it down onto the last mole. Both the hammer and the mole broke into pieces. His score shot up to 100.

"Roran! A lot of things — no, everything is fragile in here! Watch that hammer!" Angela chided. "Anyway, congrats to winning!" She turned to the audience."Because Roran has won, you all go home with a tool kit!" The fangirls had to be restrained by the ushers. Roran bowed again. "Calm down everyone, calm down... RORAN TO YOUR LEFT!" "Huh?" He turned around and barely dodged as a crimson haired boy jumped at him. "I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN STRONGHAMMER SIR!" he yelled, wildly reaching for Roran's hammer. "Ooh, what an oddity! A fanboy!" Angela squealed. So shocked by the idea of a "fanboy", Roran instinctively drew his hammer and accidentally brought it down on Angela's exquisite and extremely fragile porcelain table, smashing it into pieces.

"Roran, that table cost me 400 crowns..." Angela growled. The fanboy jumped in front of Roran. "I SHALL SAVE YOU SIR!"

But of course none could withstand Angela's wrath, and Roran and his fanboy bolted from the studio, Angela screaming "TRIANGLE HEADED OCTOPI MUFFINS!" after them.

**Next Episode hint: No poaching**


	4. Episode 4

**As always, enjoy this chapter dear readers :)**

**b1wein: Of course it's random, it's Angela XD Nah I'm kidding, I get what you're saying. Talk shows are supposed to have some sort of format. I'll do some research, and try to improve on that :)**

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"Congratulations to Straw Hat Mikans!" said Angela. "You get this slice of chocolate cake I stole from Arya's dinner table!

* * *

Angela hurried on stage, huffing and puffing, muttering curses under her breath. Her hair was grimy and untidy, and strangely contained bits of pink feathers. Her clothes were slightly tattered, and her boots wet. The audience stared at her queer appearance. "I'm sorry for being extremely unpresentable today, everyone. It's the drasnik* Solem—" but before she could finish, a flock of _flamingos_ raced across stage, buffeting Angela from side to side, nearly knocking her off the stage. They gave warbling squawks, flapping their wings and trampling the furniture as they ran across the stage and disappeared to the back.

Angela was left with even more tattered clothes and even messier hair. Loud amused meows came from backstage. "SOLEMBUM!" the witch screeched. She stomped over to the fur couch and plonked herself half-heartedly in it as the audience laughed their faces off. "Yes, very amusing, I bet none of you even know the kinds of disease these flamingos spread," she remarked. The audience quietened and turned pale, much to Angela's delight. "Anywho, welcome to the Angela Show, and today we have of course another special guest: he's huge, he's horny, and he's horrifically awesome! Anyone want to guess?" she asked, picking bits of feather out of her curly locks.

A werecat ran up to a random guy in the audience and held a microphone up to him. "Um… Eragon Shadeslayer?" he said, unsure. The rest of the audience roared with laughter. Angela laughed hardest of all. "Haha, no, haha, though the blockhead does have a ego as huge as Belgabad and is awesomely horrific, haha, he's not horny at all… except when it comes to a certain green-eyed e — no. That's not appropriate. Never mind!"

"Anyway, our special guest for today is also a hero of the war, and his name is Nar Garzhvog!"

The audience clapped politely, though it was obvious that some of the humans were not all to pleased with an Urgal on the show. The Urgals bellowed, banging their horns together to create a primal sort of noise. The humans shifted slightly away from any Urgals sitting by them.

Nar Garzhvog tromped down from backstage and sat on the fur couch. It collapsed under his weight. "Oh… I am sorry Uluthrek…" he apologised and quickly moved to sit on the floor. The wood creaked. "Sigh… it's alright Nar Garzhvog. We're honoured to have you on the show today anyway. So let's just jump right to the point (though it is really a question, why it is called a point?). How have your Urgals been so far?"

Garzhvog gave a guttural laugh. "We have been well Uluthrek, much thanks to the Queen Nighstalker and the land she has given us. Humans are still suspicious, of course" — he glanced around the room — "But we mostly avoid each other, and we cope fine. Hunting is good in the Spine."

"Hmm. No sightings of rabid ferrets, then?"

"Rabbits? Why would we fear mere rabbits? They are but moss under our feet."

"None of you know how dangerous ferrets are too! Worse than flamingos!" Angela shook her head. "Anyway, how about the Games that have been set up? Have the Urgals taken well to the idea?"

"Mine kin are satisfied with the idea for now, we are able to compete with other races and in a way 'wage war'. We especially like the games where fighting is involved, like wrestling or capture-the-flag. Sometimes not even the little elves can stand up to our might!" The Kull chief gave a fearsome grin. Then he became serious.

"But though we fare well in the games, my race still holds a great love for war… it's likely future generations of Urgralgra will succumb to our primal instincts, and instigate battle with the humans again," he said. "We're not evil. We just love war."

Angela nodded. "For many years past the humans and Urgals have hunted each other. This is not only wrong, but illegal. No poaching, everyone." At this, Garzhvog burst into tears. "None of you understand, but the Urgralgra." Urgals in the audience bowed their heads. The other races gave each other equally nonchalant looks.

"Let's forget all that now and move on. In accordance with the ongoing games, I'd like for there to be a game played here too! Could Siegfried Darsson come down here please?" A stout black-haired dwarf rose from his seat, repeatedly patted on the back by his peers. He ran onto stage where Angela handed him and Garzhvog a pillow each.

"What is this for?" Siegfried asked. "PILLOW FIGHT!" Angela squealed. Siegfried and Garzhvog looked at each other, confused. Then finally: "Yaaaargh!" the dwarf rushed the Kull, batting at his legs with the pillow. Garzhvog strangely giggled. "That tickles, dwarf!" He sent Siegfried flying off with one swing of his pillow. And so the battle began, Kull and dwarf beating each other up with pillows, scattering the flamingo feather fluffing everywhere. Small-tooth sneezed.

It seemed that the Kull was gaining the upper hand. But then Siegfried dodged a strike from Garzhvog, and using the Kull's arm for leverage, launched himself into the air and brought his pillow down upon one of Garzhvog's horns. Feathers sprayed everywhere. "NUU! Not my beautiful horn!" He sobbed. "I yield!" The dwarves in the audience cheered as the Urgals bellowed angrily at them.

"Congrats Siegfried for winning!" Angela turned to the audience. "And because Siegfried has won, the freebie for today's Fourth Day of Giveaways is a dwarf repellent!" She drew a small canister from her robe and sprayed a fine mist of blue at Siegfried. The dwarf covered his nose. "Gar! What is that smell?!" He dashed off the stage.

"It works! Give a hand for Nar Garzhvog everybody, and see you next time on the Angela show!"

**Episode 5 hint: Allergies**

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*_drasnik_: "idiot" in a strange language only Angela knows.


	5. Episode 5

**We've reached the 5th episode! Thanks for all the support everyone! **

Small - tooth made himself busy throwing bags of popcorn out to the audience. It was like throwing crumbs at pigeons: wherever he threw popcorn, people would swarm and argue. The elves acted the most mature, doing their best to stay cool, but to him they seemed the most childish. If they really were mature they wouldn't be fighting over a _single kernel_. He scoffed as one of them put on a pair of sunglasses.

And suddenly, with a bang — Angela dropped down from the ceiling at the back of the studio, a strange wing contraption strapped to her back. She glided down to the stage, hitting a few people, and gracefully landed on her couch. "Good morning Alagaësia, and welcome to the Angela Show!" she announced to cheers.

"Today's guest is a furry friend of Er — um, he's a furry elf! Please welcome Blödhgarm everyone!" Angela said, removing the contraption from her back.

An elf covered in bright orange fur strode out, running a wooden comb through his fur. The audience stared at him as he took his seat and placed 2 fingers upon his lips. "Atra esterní ono thelduin, Wise one," he greeted. Angela replied in kind. The witch's nose twitched.

"Blödhgarm, why do I smell tropical fruit?" she asked, rubbing her nose.

The elf grinned, revealing his pointy canines. "That is my conditioner, Wise One. I need to keep my fur soft and healthy." He ran his comb through his head fur again.

"Elves… use conditioner? Really?" Angela said. She shrugged. "Whatever. I've always known elves to be the weird, narcissistic ones. I mean, they take at least 50 selfies per hour! All them fairths!" The audience chuckled, even some of the "less arrogant" elves.

"Also, Blödhgarm, why is you hair orange?" she asked. "Do you now find beauty in the pelt of a wild… whatever?" The elf laughed, running his comb through his hair again.

"No! Have you not heard, Wise One? Orange is the new blue!" he exclaimed, and fixed the sequins in his hair. "Would you like some hairspray too?" he held out a canister to the herbalist. Angela quickly shook her head.

"Anyway, onto other topics, we—" Blödhgarm cut in and spoke to the audience. "Hey, all of you here! What an unfashionable lot you are! Where are you sparkles?" To emphasise his point, the elf sprayed glitter from a canister on everyone, including on an extremely unhappy Small-tooth.

"_My _fur does not _glitter_, stinky elf!" he hissed, jumping onstage with scissors in hand. "Now, now, Small-tooth, let's not be hasty…" Angela soothed as she picked out bits of glitter in her hair. The audience clearly thought otherwise though, cheering the werecat on.

"It's time for a haircut, don't you think, stinky elf?" Small-tooth grinned. He sneezed and shook his head. "I, we, ah, achoo!" Small-tooth sneezed again, and again. "Allergies!" He explained through a blocked nose. He collapsed onto the floor, attacked by an onslaught of violent sneezed. Blödhgarm laughed maniacally.

"I have the upper hand now werecat!" And he brought out his own pair of scissors, diving down onto Small-tooth. "Angela — 'elp!" Small-tooth screeched. She shrugged and continued removing glitter from her clothes.

"Yes, yes, pink hairspray here, curler there, ooh! You could do with some nice _sequins_ here!" Blödhgarm said. The werecat was sobbing.

After a while, Blödhgarm retreated, and lo and behold! A pink werecat with curly, glittering fur stood crying in the limelight. "I hate you all!" he screeched, running off the stage. The studio was dead silent, save for someone moaning backstage. "Oh shut it Mallory!" Angela whispered furiously.

"Well," the witch said, breaking the silence. "Not too late to play a little game, I hope?" she asked, glancing over at Blödhgarm. He nodded, to Angela's delight. "Alright then! Mallory? _Get Mallory out here!" _A frightened werecat rushed out, carting a moaning wooden box. "Thank you!"

The audience stared curiously at the container. Angela rapped on the box, and one side swung open, revealing a rotting zombie strapped into the box. Blödhgarm took two steps backwards. "What foul necromancy is this?" he squeaked.

"Oh, just something I won from a guy with a rooster-shaped bald spot," she said. "This is a dancing game! Blödhgarm and Mallory will attempt to out-dance each other. You game?" The elf, vain as he was, was obviously not going to let any undead hurt his pride. "Of course!"

Angela unstrapped Mallory, who instantly leapt out of the box and begun break dancing on the floor. Bits of grime and blood splattered everywhere. "Watch the carpet you!" she ordered. The audience was very receptive to a break-dancing zombie, cheering wildly for Mallory. The zombie finished its sequence with a graceful (or as graceful as zombies can get) head spin. Angela shoved it back into the box.

"Now then, how about you Blödhgarm! Blödhgarm?" But the elf had disappeared, leaving a note on his chair. "I am off to attend Earl Von Sway's fashion party! Farewell, and I shall see you another time! ~Blödhgarm," Angela read out. She sighed.

"Sorry for that randomness everyone. Don't worry though, because you're all still going home with a hamper of hair products!" She threw a pair of scissors into the crowd. "Ow! My eye!"

"Thank you everyone and see you next time on the Angela Show!"

**Episode 6 hint: Hooping the Hula**

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**And here's a bonus section to celebrate the 5th episode of the Angela Show! :D**

The room was pitch dark. She struggled against her bindings; she sensed others around her. She could not speak, for she her mouth had been taped shut. "Mmmfhmgg!" Similar replies came.

Suddenly, a lone, dim light flickered on. She blinked to adjust her eyes to the brightness, and saw that there were 3 other people in the room: one with a well-trimmed beard, one with hazel skin, one with mellow brown eyes. Their chairs were all tied together.

Footsteps in front of her. A short woman with curly hair bounced in front of her. "Mfhngfrrr?!" She exclaimed. The woman ripped off the duct tape, and she groaned at the searing pain.

"Angela! What is the meaning of this?" she questioned, viridian eyes blazing. "I was just happily walking in my gardens when I was suddenly transported _here_!" The witch laughed.

"You've all been temporarily brought into this rift in space-time for a special section of my talk show!" The bearded one nodded, the skin around his eyes crinkling, as if he was smiling. Angela tore off his duct tape too, pulling out a patch of beard.

"You are going to interview us then?" he asked. Angela nodded. "You've been on my show before, Stronghammer. You should be used to this." Roran turned his head to look at the still gagged captives. The hazel-skinned one rolled her eyes.

After Angela had ungagged all of them, they burst out at her with furious questions. "I have a_ kingdom_ to run, witch!" She and the hazel-skinned one screamed.

"Calm down," Angela attempted to placate them. "I just want to interview all of you, no time will pass in Alagaësia while you're all here." She grinned. "All I want to know is: What is your deepest, darkest secret?"

The four of them shifted uncomfortably. "This won't be broadcasted on national TV, will it?" the mellow-brown eyed one asked. Angela smirked. "Perhaps, or perhaps not. But you won't leave this rift until you answer the question." The captives groaned.

"Alright then, just to get this over with," Roran said. "My darkest secret: I… I like playing with dolls?" The mellow-brown eyed burst into laughter, making Roran blush. "Not funny ok? You played with dolls too when we were young, so don't laugh." Brown-eye quietened down.

Angela turned to look at the hazel-skinned one, who glared back. "You can't make me talk, herbalist!" The witch pouted. "Please?" The captive sighed. "Fine. But only because you are my good friend, Angela." The hazel-skinned one thought for a bit. "Alright, my darkest secret has to be…" she gulped. "I, I'm addicted to cake," she mumbled.

The other three looked at her. "Cake?" Angela asked. She nodded. "Yes, cake. Cakes of all shapes and flavours and frostings. Oh, you have no idea, Angela, the wonders of cake…" her eyes glazed over.

Angela laughed. "Yes, not many know this, but cake actually contains an addictive substance called milurin!" They gawked at her. "Yes, milurin, if taken in excessive amounts, can cause severe gastric disorders!" The hazel-skinned one turned pale.

"Now, onto you then!" the witch said to the viridian-eyed one. "Like Nasuada, I have nothing to say to you," she said. "I hold you in great respect, Wise One, but my secrets are not something I carelessly throw about." Angela nodded.

"I understand. Therefore I'll say it out for you then!" Her eyes grew wide. "Impossible! How—"

"I like to be around interesting thing, and you are a _very _interesting person!" she grinned. "Right then, your darkest secret is…"

"No no no I'll say it myself! Please Angela," she said quickly. The herbalist nodded and gestured for her to continue. She took a deep breath. "Alright, my darkest secret is, um," she exchanged a glance with the mellow-brown eyed one, who raised an eyebrow at her. "Fine. My darkest secret is that _I hate plants!" _

Everyone gasped as she looked at the floor. "But Arya, you are an elf! How can you hate plants?" Nasuada asked. The elf queen gave her a look.

"We _eat_ plants, Nasuada. If we loved them, we wouldn't be cultivating and nurturing them, making them think they shall one day grow tall and strong, only to uproot them, swallow them, and _crush their_ _dreams_!" she hissed, her eyes glowing again with fury.

"Whoa," said the mellow-brown eyed one. Angela stepped in front of him, drawing his attention away from Arya. "You're the last one! Spill," she said.

"I don't understand the point of this, Angela!" he complained. Angela patted his head. "You don't have to, dear. It's much beyond any of you."

He cringed. "Seeing as I'm the last one, I better make this good. My darkest secret; well, it's… I want to be as fashionable as Blödhgarm," he muttered. Everyone burst out laughing, with Arya laughing so hard that she had fallen onto the floor along with her chair. He turned the deepest shade of red.

Angela wiped a tear from her eye. "Oh, that was good, blockhead! Fashionable like _Blödhgarm_, of all people!" She shook her head, then went over to untie all of them from their chairs.

"Thank you all for being surprise guests on the Angela Show!" More lights turned on, and the four captives found themselves in the studio being caught on live television. The audience roared with laughter at their embarrassment.

"_Angela_…!" they growled.

"I have to run now! Goodbye everyone!" And with that, the witch disappeared in a puff of smoke.

**Note: Milurin is not a real substance. Angela was joking. **


	6. Episode 6

**I apologize for the late update (and my terrible humour XD) **

The audience was bewildered to find a short, shaggy boy sitting on the couch with his legs dangling over the edge, the couch being too big for him. The boy yawned and grinned at all of them, revealing two sharp canines.

"Good day everybody and welcome back to the Angela Show!" said the iconic host of the show. She promptly leapt down from the ceiling and onto the stage. "I see you've all met Solembum," Angela nodded. "I'm thinking of making him my co-host. What do you all think?"

They erupted into spontaneous cheers. Angela sat back in another couch. "Now then. Today is the 6th day of giveaways, so…" The stage curtain pulled back to reveal 3 doors, each a different colour. "Randall Obertsson?" she requested. A guy wearing a huge Angela wig rushed over.

"Here!" he said in an unnaturally squeaky voice which sent the entire studio laughing. Solembum struggled to keep a straight face. "High on helium, aren't you Randall? Anyway, pick a door and you have a (small) chance of winning a prize!" Angela said. Randall stared at the doors, contemplating which would rocket him into fortune. Finally, he decided. "The red door please!"

Solembum stretched, and with a wave of his paw the door swung open to reveal an anvil. "Oh, Randall, why do you look so disappointed? Anvils are very practical, and this is cutting edge in smithing technology!" Angela picked up the anvil like she was picking up dropped fruits from the floor, and placed it in Randall's hands. The poor guy stumbled backwards onto Solembum's foot and ran off. The werecat screeched.

"Thank you Randall! Now, that anvil is actually a hint about our special guest for today! If you guessed Horst, congratulation! Come on down Horst!"

The tall, hulking blacksmith stomped over to a third couch on stage. Angela laced her fingers together.

"How are you Horst?"

"Oh, I am well, herbalist. Business is slowing a bit, but we're coping fine."

"_'__We'?" _Solembum inquired, projecting his thoughts to the audience.

"Mine family: Elain and our five children."

_"__Dear Horst, don't tell me you and Elain were…merrymaking again_," Solembum said. Horst bristled.

"Of course not, we are both old. We've adopted another girl, you see. An orphan from Therinsford. Albriech and Baldor have already moved out from the nest, so we thought it'd be nice to have another child to look after."

"_What about the other child?_"

The blacksmith refused to answer. His face remained red.

Angela chuckled. "Alright. You've talked about your family, so how about your town? How's it like being ruled by a blockhead's equally blockheaded cousin?" Horst snorted at this.

"Roran is no blockhead. He's an excellent earl and he really knows us townspeople well. He's done us all proud… though he could still work on keeping that beard of his tidy."

Solembum nodded. "_I understand, fur is somewhat more difficult to maintain as compared to scales or feathers or skin. You can just ask Angela, she knows how hard it is with that handbag she made using Galbatorix's beard."_

Crickets chirped. Angela coughed. "Um, let's get off the topic of the furs of evil kings. What have you been up to so far Horst? Apart from procreation, of course."

"I told you we adopted! Anyway, I've been working on a new smithing project, I've been trying to make an automaton."

"You need magic for that, don't you?" Angela raised an eyebrow. Horst nodded.

"Yes, and that's why I brought the automaton along with me!" The blacksmith brandished a black suitcase that he had carried into the studio and clicked open the locks. It slowly folded out into the shape of a small humanoid robot.

"This is an android!" Horst announced with a proud beam. The crowd "ooh"ed and "aah"ed. Solembum was staring strangely at the metal man.

"An Android?" Angela asked, slightly puzzled. "I didn't know you worked for Google."

It was Horst's turn to be puzzled. "What is goggle? I don't work for anyone but myself." Angela shook her head, smiling knowingly.

"Never mind… Solembum?" The werecat had reverted to his cat form and was crouched on the ground, staring at the android. The werecat screamed at the robot and pounced on it, knocking it over.

"Solembum!" Angela scolded. She tore the flailing werecat away from the robot. It had suffered long scratches down its side and had several wires torn out. Horst sunk down next to his damaged creation and sadly packed it back up into the suitcase.

"What was that for Solembum?! You just possibly killed off Sam Song!" He licked his paw and drew it over the fur behind his ear, to flatten it.

"_Sam Song? He is a man who kicks at cats,_" he hissed . His already slit-like eyes furthered narrowed. Horst was confused.

"Who is Sam Song?" Angela went through another bout of coughing. "You don't need to know, Horst."

"Anyway, the Q&A session is over — so, smith, would you like to play a game?" Horst was about to reply when there was a sudden interruption from downstage.

"Wise One, I demand a refund!" A haughty looking elf came over with a mighty furious expression on his face.

"_A refund? We don't give refunds,_" Solembum smirked. His eyes flashed but the elf did not seem bothered. "I came late because I just _had_ to stop and use magic to modify this ugly haired flower in the streets, and your smelly, hairy werecat guards had the _audacity_ to try and keep me out! Poor service of yours!" the elf huffed.

Angela merely chortled. "Most elves aren't as direct as you, but I appreciate your honesty. Alright, to make up for it, why don't you play a game with our special guest?"

"With this _human_?!"

"_These pointy-ear sure has issues with fur,"_ Solembum sniffed. He gagged, and spat a hairball out at the elf's feet.

"Yes, with _Horst_. Now, both of you stand here." The elf grumbled and took his place next to Horst, pointedly ignoring his attempts at any form of pleasantry. Angela produced two hula hoops.

"The aim of this game is to hula as many hoops as you can without letting them fall! The game starts now!" The herbalist threw the hoops over the two surprised players, and they quickly began to move their hips in a circular manner. The elf, not wanting to lose out to a "_human_", was moving in an extremely exaggerated way, so exaggerated that it was almost suggestive. Angela hid her grin behind a hand.

"Right, as Solembum throws more hula hoops over their heads, I'll tell you guys a few jokes." The werecat threw two more hula hoops over each player.

"So you all know Saturn, right? Anyone know why Saturn has rings?" One dwarf scratched his head and called out, "Because Urûr liked it, and to make it nicer put rings on it?" Angela slapped her face. "Saturn is not a single lady!" Solembum threw more hula hoops on the players. Total hoop count: 5.

"Next joke: Why is it useless to study circles?" Silence. "Because circles are _pointless_! Eh? Eh?" More silence. Angela frowned. "You people are pointless too." Total hoop count: 7. Horst was having a bit of trouble keeping up with all the hula hoops. Solembum began throwing random items at the elf to make him lose balance.

"One last joke for you all, and you better laugh! Did you all know that 3.14% of sailors are PIrates?" When this didn't get any laughter, Angela shrugged. "You're all a PItiful bunch of humourless anyway." Total hoop count: 11.

The audience, having had enough of her circle jokes, turned back to look at where the elf and Horst were still having a go at out-spinning each other. Horst was sweating and puffing while the elf didn't seem winded at all.

"It seems that—" The elf fainted. "Um, it seems that Horst wins! Good job Horst!" The audience burst into cheers. "Oh, so _now_ you all have a reaction!" Angela laughed.

"_Truth be told, herbalist, those jokes were pretty square_," Solembum informed her. For once, the witch shut up, and she sank to the floor.

"_Since Horst won, you are all going back with a hula hoop each!_" the Solembum announced. The audience liked this very much and cheered for the werecat.

Angela slumped to the floor.

**Episode 7 hint: The hoard **

**I've planned about the next 5 episodes already, but if you have any requests do leave them in the comments :) See you all next time! **


	7. Episode 7

_A/N: I wrote this chapter in the form of a television transcript, seeing as it is a talk show. Do tell me what you think of it!_

* * *

_Yet another large crowd has gathered in Angela's studio in Illirea, including a high-ranking official from Nasuada's court. The audience members are more orderly this time, getting to their seats without a fuss. A brawl breaks out between one of the official's guards and a humble farmer. The farmer somehow wins the fight, delivering a upper cut to the soldier's face, settling his plump self down in his seat._

_At the front of the studio is where the real action is about to take place. A familiar, curly-haired witch takes her seat in an over-sized red chair, a grizzly werecat at her side. Smalltooth the Werecat Cameraman adjusts the camera to face the two hosts. _

_"__Camera rolling in 3… 2… 1!" The crowd cheers, providing colourful background noise to the opening jingle of the show. _

Angela: Solembum, have you noticed the new chandelier the studio director has purchased?

Solembum: No. Ah, there it is! It is spectacular enough.

Angela: I think it is a very nice decoration for this blank looking hall. Provides more lighting too, really adds to the ambience, don't you think?

Smalltooth: *hissing* Angela! The show has started!

Angela: Oops! Hello everyone and welcome to the —

Solembum: Solembum and Angela Show.

Angela: It's just the Angela Show, dear werecat.

Solembum: You must give your co-hosts your due credit.

Angela: Fine. The Angela and Solembum Show. Today is the last day of the "7 Days of Giveaways" Week, so —

Solembum: You're not getting anything.

Angela: Solembum! You _are _all getting something, but they will depend on the luck on one of our unlucky viewers, i.e. Christopher Kensson!

_Christopher Kensson hurries onto the stage. He is a man of medium-stature, curly brown hair and a thick jacket covering his slim form. His trips over the steps leading up to the stage, crashing into both Smalltooth and the camera. Viewers at home are left with static on their screens._

Smalltooth: Stupid human! *fixes the camera*

Christopher: I am so sorry!

Angela: Get up here before you cause another accident.

Christopher: *scrambles onto the stage* What do I have to do?

Angela: Behind this curtain…

_The drapes at the back of the stage are pulled back, possibly by magic, to reveal three glossy wooden chests, each painted in a distinct colour of blue, red and green. _

Angela: _…_are three choices of prizes! Whichever one you pick will be what the entire audience is getting for today!

Solembum: Pick carefully, Christopher the human. We werecats have the ability to see fate… and yours is not a particularly bright one.

Christopher: *gulps, a bead of sweat runs down his temple* Well… here we go! The blue one, I guess.

_The lid of the blue chest swings open. Angela motions for Christopher to take a look at what is inside the chest. He creeps forward, as if the chest contains a dangerous beast waiting to spring up and devour him. The audience leans forward, growing anxious at the suspense. _

Christopher: BY THE SKY AND THE EARTH!

Angela: What have you seen?

Christopher: I GOT A SAPPHIRE DRAGON STATUE!

Angela: So that's what you're all getting too!

_The audience is of course exhilarated at this prize. Some of them already have a greedy glint in their eyes. No doubt they are going to sell the statuettes later, though with so many of those prizes in the market they're not going to sell it for very much. _

Solembum: And now our special guest is here!

Angela: Really? And who is about to grace the show with his presence?

Solembum: Just King Orik of the dwarves.

_The dwarves in the crowd roar at this, stamping their feet. _

Angela: *smiling* We shouldn't keep this crowd waiting then! Your Majesty?

_A stout, brown-bearded dwarf appears from backstage, waving at his adoring subjects. He wears a dark green tunic, with a brown leather strap stretching from his right shoulder to his left hip, securing the fabric in place. Around him is a simple cape which reaches down to just above his ankles, while his hammer Volund is strapped to his belt. Around his head is a bright circlet of gold and jewels, an ornament signifying his status as the King of the dwarves. Orik wastes no time in getting to the seat prepared for him in between Angela's and Solembum's. It appears that the chair is too high for him, however. He takes several tries to climb up onto the seat. _

Angela: Welcome to the Show, King Orik!

Orik: *panting* I am glad to be here. Could you not have given me a more… suitable chair for my size?

Solembum: We would have, Your Majesty, but custom dwarf chairs are a bit hard to come about in the human capital.

Orik: Of course, of course…

Angela: How was your journey here, Your Highness?

Orik: To my fortune it was relatively uneventful, though we did have to stop midway as one of my guards had collapsed from heat stroke.

Angela: You should hire better guards, Your Majesty. What kind of guard can't tolerate a bit of heat?

Orik: In his defence he was in full battle regalia! Have you tried —

Angela: If it would serve your memory well, King Orik, I would remind you that I participated in the war against Galbatorix in _summer_. And in_ full battle regalia. _

Orik: …of course you did.

Solembum: The herbalist is a snappy one, Your Majesty. Do be careful with your words.

Angela: You too werecat.

Solembum: You wound me. *licks paw*

Angela: Back to our conversation! So, heat stroke? Really?

Orik: Heat stroke is more serious than you think!

Angela: Not if your healers were anything competent.

Solembum: Sssssssss.

Orik: "Sssssssss"?

Solembum: It's the sound of you getting burnt.

Angela: I thought the sound of getting burnt is "Shhhhh"?

Orik: *coughs*

Angela: Apologies, King Orik! What were we talking about again? Oh that's right, your incompetent guard. I think that's perhaps enough burning for now… Why don't we talk about the up and coming Illirean Games instead!

Orik: That sounds much better.

Solembum: We have heard that you are entering the Games yourself, King Orik.

Orik: Ah yes, that is true! I am a king! I cannot let my fellow _knurla_ swing their hammers without me, can I? *laughs*

_Another wave of excitement passes through the dwarven section of the crowd._

Angela: It's going to be an exciting game then! So you can be sure I'll be there too. How about you Solembum?

Solembum: Perhaps. What games are you taking part in?

Orik: Jousting, and the Free-for-All. Actually, I think Queen Arya is taking part as well!

Solembum: The elf? Why would she do that?

Orik: Search me, werecat. I know as much about her as you do.

Solembum: You might be surprised at what I know about the people of this land…

Angela: 'Bum! You must cut it out with all your mysterious moments.

Solembum: Did you just call me "Bum"?

Angela: That _is _an appropriate nickname for you, seeing as it is part of your name.

Solembum: But it sounds vulgar!

Angela: *grinning* In what way does it sound vulgar, 'Bum? Do tell our audience.

Solembum: Just get on with the show, witch.

Orik: The both of you frighten me.

Angela: As you should be! Alright, let's stop straying from the topic. Do you think you have any chance of winning?

Orik: *laughs* I believe there is a likelihood with this wondrous weapon at mine side. *pats Volund*.

Solembum: That reminds me… We are most curious to find out how strong Volund really is. May we request that you help us test it?

Orik: Why of course! Anything to show the might and power of the KNURLA!

_At this point, several dwarves dwarves in the audience have had their throats gone hoarse from all the cheering they have done. _

_Angela walks backstage and returns with a strange contraption. It has a circular disc of metal at the bottom, as well as a tall pillar with a bell at the top. A meter has been carved into the pillar. Along the centre of the pillar is a shallow groove for a small rectangular block of metal to slide up and down. _

Angela: This is a weighing scale invented by a Surdan scientist! It was originally intended to weigh foodstuffs and jewels at the market, but we can use this to measure the force Volund can deliver.

Solembum: And here I have a normal hammer.

Orik: I see where this is going. I should hit the metal disc with Volund, yes?

Angela: That's right! You will hit it with the hammer first, then with Volund. Hit it as hard as you can!

Orik: Aye. I can do that.

_Orik grabs the hammer from Solembum and hits the metal disc with full force. The block of metal shoots up, hitting the bell. It rings with a resounding clearness. _

Solembum: It seems you are quite strong, dwarf king.

Orik: A weak king cannot rule, werecat. That is a given.

_Now, the king draw Volund from his belt. The audience is eager to see the power behind it, wide-eyed and mouths gaping, though the elves are stoic, their only sign of interest is the twinkling in their eyes. _

_Bringing the legendary war hammer high above his head, he swings it down, placing all his strength behind that one blow. The metal disc cracks. The block of metal rams through the bell, shooting up and destroying the chandelier. _

Angela: KING ORIK!

Orik: Barzul! Apologies, Herbalist.

Angela: The studio director isn't going to be very pleased with you! He bought it with money right from Nasuada's coffers, you know!

_The high-ranking official blanches. It turns out he is Queen Nasuada's Royal Treasurer. He had overlooked the discrepancy in their funds — he doubted the Queen would dismiss this mistake of his. _

Orik: This is not a problem. I'm sure I have the money to replace this!

Solembum: 1 000 crowns, Your Highness.

Orik: …th — that can be arranged.

_Some useful information about dwarven currency: the dwarves trade using 3 types of coins, of which the most valuable is the gold. 64 copper coins equal one silver; 16 silvers equal one gold. 1 crown is equal to 10 coppers. Thus Orik has to pay about 10 golds — which is quite an amount considering that an Urgal horn-bow can be bought with 3. _

Angela: Oh bother! We can just blame the director. He's a fudgy old miser anyway!

Solembum: Hnn. It seems like it is wrapping up point, Angela.

Angela: It is? What a shame! Well thank you King Orik for gracing the show with your presence.

Orik: It was my pleasure to be here! (I think.)

Angela: And to thank our wonderful audience for being here, you're all getting tickets to the Free-for-All event at the Illirean Games!

_The studio seems to shake from the force of the audience's cheers. _

Solembum: Silence! That's all we have for today on the Solembum and Angela Show, so farewell!

Angela: *whispering to Orik* Wave at the camera and smile! AND 'BUM, it is the _Angela _and Solembum Show! At least follow standard name conventions!

Solembum: My name. Is not. 'Bum.

**Next episode hint: It's a special episode! So no hint ;)**

* * *

_The studio director is hoping for reviews from the audience to continuously improve the show! Till next time on the Angela Show :) _


End file.
